The Darkness Within Him: The Untwisted series

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The Darkness Within Him: The Untwisted series Page 9

by Alice Raine


  ‘Yeah, but it’s OK. I gave as good as I got,’ I said with a weak smile, which was more than true. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr Peterson didn’t cancel his order and go elsewhere after the barrage of rude remarks I’d thrown at him. I believe the words “obnoxious, ill-bred, impatient pig” may have figured somewhere in my tirade.

  ‘I’m sorry I cancelled my lesson, Nicholas, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate and I didn’t want to be miserable around you.’ He nodded sharply, passing another gaze around my flat, which made me squirm with discomfort and immediately regret not tidying up earlier when I’d had the chance.

  ‘Why do you live here, Rebecca? It’s not exactly the best part of town, is it?’ he questioned, with a disapproving frown marring his brows. It was true: although trendy and a cool place to live, the areas of central London with cheaper rent were never going to be the safest of neighbourhoods.

  ‘I’ve lived here for years,’ I replied with a shrug.

  ‘But your grandfather left you quite a sum of money. It was easily enough to buy the bookshop and upgrade your housing arrangement,’ Nicholas said as he fingered a dusty bookshelf cautiously.

  ‘Yeah, but I got the flat way before Granddad left me the inheritance money …’ Halfway through my explanation, I froze. How the hell did Nicholas know how much money Granddad had left me?

  At my pause, Nicholas’ eyes flashed to mine and a flush of guilt coloured his cheeks.

  ‘I …’ He winced with discomfort. ‘Once things started to get more … intimate between us I may have done a spot of background research on you,’ he confessed finally.

  My eyes flew wide open as I jumped to my feet incredulously. ‘What the hell, Nicholas? You hacked into my bank accounts?’ I yelled, my arms flailing in all directions. How dare he!

  ‘No, I didn’t hack your accounts. I’m a pianist, not an international criminal mastermind,’ he replied dryly. ‘But thanks to your review I’m quite famous now, and as such have friends in high places who do have the skills to obtain information for me.’ Which I took to mean “hack my account”.

  ‘I merely asked a good acquaintance of mine to do me a favour,’ he said, as though it were an everyday occurrence, which for someone like Nicholas it more than likely was.

  ‘Jesus, Nicholas, this is crazy!’ My voice was high and incredulous, but I couldn’t help but find his digging slightly flattering. After all, if he was doing checks into me then he must be seeing me as more than just a casual fuck, mustn’t he?

  ‘I was merely curious about you, Rebecca,’ he said by way of apology, without actually uttering the word “sorry”.

  ‘I’m not after you for your money, if that’s what you think,’ I muttered quietly, hurt by the sudden thought that that might be how he saw me. Because being viewed as a gold-digger was so much worse than being thought of as a woman who sleeps with a guy casually once a week, I thought shamefully.

  ‘Clearly not; you have more than enough money of your own,’ Nicholas stated with a satisfied smirk as he took a step closer, but I countered by stepping back and dropping stubbornly onto the couch again.

  Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. ‘Look, I’m sorry if my actions have upset you.’ Wow, he actually said the S-word! ‘But you have no idea how many women have tried to get close to me because of my money. It’s so refreshing to know you’re different.’ Seeing my continued glower, Nicholas let out another deep breath and shook his head as if at a loss for words.

  After staying silent for a long period, he apparently decided he’d had enough of that topic and, as he often did, he simply moved on to what was on his mind. ‘So, this business with this guy at your work, you’re sure you don’t need me to do anything?’

  After glaring at him for several moments, it was clear that our previous discussion was over and that I wasn’t going to win this battle. Or any battle where Nicholas Jackson was concerned, I thought, almost laughing out loud at how stubborn and single-minded he was. ‘I’m fine, honestly,’ I conceded in a lighter tone. ‘Decided to distract myself from it all.’ I jerked a thumb at the television.

  ‘With cookery shows?’ he asked, eyeing my choice of MasterChef rather dubiously, an eyebrow rising in apparent amusement. It caused me to blush and nod simultaneously as a goofy smile returned to my lips.

  ‘You didn’t think I would be a suitable enough distraction for you?’ he asked, his voice suddenly low and dark and full of the tantalizing promise of distractions far more exciting than MasterChef.

  Shocked, I looked up at him, my eyes widening marginally. ‘I know you would be, but I thought you might get annoyed if I couldn’t concentrate on the piano,’ I conceded weakly. God, his penetrating gaze was getting me excited already and he wasn’t even near me.

  Slowly, Nicholas nodded. ‘I see. I can leave if you want to be alone.’ He paused, cocking his head to one side. ‘Or I would be more than happy to act as a distraction from your bad day, if you like? I can think of several things that would take your mind off work, Rebecca,’ he promised in a low tone.

  Several things? That just sounded too tempting to pass up …

  ‘Take my mind off work?’ I tilted my head at him. ‘I’d like that, Nicholas,’ I whispered decidedly with a nod of my head.

  Blimey, sex with Nicholas Jackson at my house, who’d have thought it?

  With a slightly arrogant but hugely sexy smile, Nicholas stalked toward me. His eyes never left mine as he held out a hand for me. Wrapping his strong fingers around mine, he proceeded to pull me up but kept tugging so I fell against his chest and had to strain my head back to see him.

  ‘Lead me to your bedroom, now,’ he instructed quietly, but for such a soft tone it was amazing how much authority he managed to lace into his words and a shiver of anticipation ran through me.

  I walked toward my bedroom on wobbly legs. As soon as we were over the threshold, Nicholas kicked off his shoes and tossed a box of condoms on the bed. He caught sight of the frown that creased my brows.

  ‘What it is?’ he asked, stepping toward me again.

  ‘Nothing, I just hate those things.’ I indicated the condom packet. ‘I know we have to use them but I think I’m slightly allergic to them.’ I had always had issues with them; in fact, the first time I’d had sex I’d thought for days that I’d caught something because I’d been so itchy, but after a very embarrassing trip to the doctors it turned out to be just a reaction to the latex.

  I could see approval in Nicholas’ eyes. ‘Agreed, I dislike them too. I have tests done regularly. My last one was only three weeks ago and was all clear, I think I still have the results in my wallet,’ he said, fumbling in his trouser pocket before handing me a folded copy of his results that I ran my eyes over vaguely before returning. This interlude was getting a little more businesslike than I had anticipated.

  ‘If you get yourself tested too we can dispose of them, as long as you’re on some other form of contraception?’ he enquired.

  ‘I have the contraceptive injection every three months,’ I told him before blushing. ‘And the clinic where I get my smear tests always runs a full sexual health check as standard; mine was all clear when I had it done seven months ago.’

  ‘Seven months?’ He scowled. ‘Maybe you should get tested again. That’s quite a while, Rebecca,’ he added, surprisingly tactfully considering he normally just said whatever was on his mind.

  Maybe seven months was a while for him, but personally, I knew I had nothing to worry about. ‘Um, actually, it’s fine, I haven’t –’ Blushing furiously, I finally met his eyes. ‘You know … I haven’t slept with anyone since that test … only you.’

  Open amazement filled his face at my statement and I briefly wondered just how many women he had been through in that time-frame. A shudder ran through me at the thought. On second thoughts, that was something I definitely didn’t want to know about Nicholas Jackson.

  ‘You haven’t slept with anyone for seven months?’ he exclaimed
gruffly, but I just blushed an even deeper shade of red.

  ‘More like just over a year,’ I mumbled, now embarrassed beyond belief and desperately wishing I could dive past him and switch the lights off to hide my burning features, because, believe me, right then I felt like a frigging glow worm.

  ‘Christ, Rebecca, you’re sex on legs – why the hell not?’ He looked completely stunned by my claim, but I was distracted by his description of me as “sex on legs” and giggled nervously.

  I just shrugged as I often do when embarrassed. ‘I finished with my last boyfriend about 13 months ago and was just too busy to look for anyone, I suppose.’ That, plus sex with my ex had been far from thrilling and I wasn’t in a rush to go out and experience any more drab fumbling. I saw Nicholas’ disbelieving look so I explained further. ‘It was about the same time that I got my inheritance from my grandfather and bought my business, so life was pretty hectic for a while. I didn’t have time for dating.’

  ‘How many people have you slept with before me?’ Nicholas asked suddenly, his eyes boring into mine. This wasn’t exactly a topic I wanted to discuss, but his tone didn’t leave me any room for refusal.

  Goodness, this was like a game of truth or dare. Squirming on the spot, I held up two fingers.

  ‘Just two?’ he whispered, his face both solemn and shocked.

  ‘Yep. You’re number three,’ I added weakly. I was not going to ask for his number. I truly didn’t want to know. His answer would no doubt give me far too much fodder for unnecessary jealousy. Clearly, with his level of skill, Nicholas had had a fair amount of practice in the bedroom and I briefly wondered if he even kept up with his number any more or had simply lost count.

  Before I knew what was happening, I found myself spun into Nicholas’ arms and being kissed so deeply I thought my legs would give way. His hand thrust into my hair, trapping my head as his tongue invaded my mouth, claiming mine and ripping the breath from my body with its intensity. From the strength of his response, I could only assume he was quite pleased with my relative inexperience in the bedroom.

  After several moments of phenomenal kissing, he raised his blazing eyes. ‘Would you like to take your frustration from work out on me, Rebecca?’ he asked, breaking our lips apart for a brief moment and staring down at me intently.

  ‘Yes,’ I muttered thickly. More precisely, I wanted him to take me rough and hard enough to make thinking about anything other than him completely impossible, but there was no way I was going to say something as rude as that out loud.

  Stepping back, he removed his jacket and placed it on a chair. ‘Would you like to use one of my toys on me?’ He produced a leather thing which looked a lot like a longer, thinner version of a table tennis bat, and caused me to frown. ‘This is a paddle, for spanking. I brought it along in case you needed to let off some steam,’ he explained softly.

  Me hit him? I thought he was the one who did the punishing. ‘Do you normally let people hit you?’ I asked in a confused whisper. A scarily dark look that spoke of something frightening and horrible flashed in his eyes before it was gone, replaced by a neutral expression again.

  ‘No. But I will make an exception for you if it will make you feel better,’ he said, his tone unreadable and hinting at an underlying something that I was obviously missing.

  I didn’t even have to consider it. Hitting him was not something I wanted to do, ever, so I shook my head. ‘No. I just want you.’

  Tossing the paddle aside, Nicholas stepped toward me again. ‘As you wish, Rebecca,’ he said, tilting his head to the side. ‘Undress me,’ he instructed.

  Undress him? Gosh, this was all very different; normally it was him doing everything to me. Pausing for a second, I realised that was probably Nicholas’ intention: to mix things up a bit so I was too busy thinking about what I was doing to worry about work. If that was his plan, it was certainly working. He had my full attention.

  He stood perfectly still for me, and I forced my trembling fingers to undo his pale grey shirt and peel it from his body. I had to look at the buttons to know what I was doing but I was fairly certain that his burning eyes never left me as I did it.

  ‘Now remove your T-shirt.’ He might not be doing anything to me, but I noticed Nicholas was still keen to give instructions. But I liked being told what to do; it was kind of sexy when he was in charge.

  Just as well, really, considering his preference for control, I thought with a small roll of my eyes. As I shook away the thought, my shirt promptly joined his on the chair.

  ‘My trousers next.’ Nicholas’ hands formed fists at his sides in an apparent effort not to join in.

  Feeling braver, I briefly cupped his visible erection through the cloth of his trousers and looked him in the eyes as I gave it a gentle squeeze, running my fingers up and down his length teasingly. A breath hissed from between his lips and his blazing eyes narrowed.

  ‘Trousers off, Rebecca,’ he reminded me firmly. ‘Otherwise I’ll come in my underwear and I don’t think either of us wants that.’

  The realisation that I had so much power over him made me giddy, and with a cheeky grin, I gave him one last teasing squeeze before lowering his zip and beginning to slip off not only his trousers, but his boxers too. Given how excited he was, I had to pull the waistband right out before he finally sprang free, allowing me to lower his clothes.

  I drew in a deep breath as I admired his naked form. Nicholas really was a fantastic specimen of a man and I couldn’t help but take a second to run my eyes appreciatively over him while pulling down my tracksuit bottoms and chucking them aside.

  ‘What would you like to do now, Rebecca?’ he asked seductively.

  My choice? Actually, I’d had such an exasperating day that I just wanted him to sex my brains out, but once again I found I was way too shy to say that, so I shrugged instead, dropping my eyes as a blush heated my cheeks.

  Rapidly, Nicholas spun me around and bent me over the bed, landing a stinging slap on my behind that made me shriek in shock. God, it actually felt really good to shout out loud and vent my frustration.

  ‘Don’t drop your eyes from me,’ he reminded me firmly.

  Before I even knew it, I was speaking. ‘Do that again … please,’ I whispered, shocked by my own words. But instead of giving me the slap that I had requested, Nicholas gripped my shoulders, pulled me upright, and turned me to face him.

  ‘What?’ he demanded, clearly confused by my request for a spanking, which, to be fair, even I was questioning.

  ‘I … it – it felt good to scream, let off a bit of steam, you know. I just wanted you to spank me one more time,’ I explained sheepishly, staring down at my entwined fingers.

  ‘You’re very confusing Rebecca, but as you are staring at your hands and therefore breaking my rule yet again, I shall oblige you this time.’

  Suddenly, I found myself bent over my bed again and yelling loudly as another, harder slap landed on my arse. Nicholas didn’t stop at one; in fact, he landed a further six slaps to my now stinging behind, each one slightly harder than the last. God, it was crazy but I found it incredibly therapeutic.

  After finishing with the slaps, Nicholas held me still with one hand at my neck and slowly pushed first one, then two moistened fingers inside my already slick channel while I was bent forward. God, it felt so good. My heart was pounding from the slaps and now my body seemed alight for him. I wanted him inside me and I realised I’d never felt so wanton. It was like a drug.

  He dragged out this sweet torture for several more minutes, and I began to push backwards onto his fingers to increase the pressure, causing him to chuckle softly behind me. Taking my keenness as a prompt to move things on, he slipped his fingers out of my moistness and climbed onto the bed next to me, propping himself up on some pillows and dragging me toward him so I was kneeling next to him and in the perfect position to kiss him, which I promptly did, enjoying the chance to have a little bit of control for a change.

  ‘Straddle me,’
he ordered darkly. Me on top … this was new too, but I did as instructed before he took hold of my hips, guided my entrance to the tip of his erection, and then pulled me down hard and fast onto his solid length.

  ‘Ahhh!’ I cried out from the pleasure and the deepness of this position, grasping at his chest with my hands. I was literally impaled on him, feeling every inch of his shaft inside me, and it felt divine, especially as we were no longer using the condoms.

  ‘You control the tempo, Rebecca; use me as you wish,’ he instructed next and so, slightly hesitantly, I began to move on top of him, a combination of pushing myself forward and back at the same time as lifting myself off him and dropping back down. Being in control was exciting, and I enjoyed bringing us both close to orgasm, but what I really wanted was for Nicholas to be slamming into me and relieving the last of my tension.

  ‘You finish it, Nicholas, I want you to take me … hard,’ I whispered, finally plucking up the courage to voice my inner desires. I saw his eyebrow arch, but without a word he shifted me off him and lay me on my back. Then he lifted both of my legs up and knelt facing me so that my legs rested against his chest and my ankles were over his shoulders.

  ‘As requested this will be hard then, Becky,’ he murmured, ‘and deep.’ Holding on to my knees to stop me moving and leaning over me so my legs bent back toward my torso, he then pushed into me so hard that I yelled out loud. Fuck, it was even deeper than before, and just what I had needed.

  In this intense position, it only took about a minute of Nicholas’ pounding onslaught to bring us both to a loud and brutal climax before he eased himself out of me and pulled me into his arms.

  ‘Frustration relieved?’ he asked softly against my damp temple several seconds later, but all I could do was nod against his chest, sigh quietly, and blush beetroot red.

 

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